


Molecule

by OldEmeraldEye



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, Baby Luke Skywalker, Exile, Gen, Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Sand & Other Particles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28853136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldEmeraldEye/pseuds/OldEmeraldEye
Summary: The sand is a constant, grainy irritant.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Molecule

**Author's Note:**

> Obi-wan, I hate sand

He learns the real truth of it, of ~~Ana~~ \- his former padawan's antipathy, not on any desert campaign - he had stoically suffered through enough environments in pursuit of a quicker end to the war that another variant was immaterial, even if - but three weeks after his arrival on the edge of the true desert, where even the native born fear to tread.

The first two weeks that he spends on planet are occupied with gathering up what resources are to be found around the spaceport, blending into the drab poursand backdrop of life in what might be dubbed teh urban life of the settlement, and then, when he is certain he is as unmemorable a figure as a stray scrap of cloth, in delivering Luke to his family with as much support - pitiful as it is - as Obi-wan can muster, and drifting away one more, but not too far; the third week of his new life on Tatooine is spent acquiring the rights to his new abode, which consists of arriving and making sure the old hut is, in fact, as abandoned as it is reputed to be.

It is not until he actively begins the trial of setting the place to rights that the creeping premonition of the new war he has set himself to waging settles like a shadow across his shoulders, and not quickly at that - the act of clearing dust and particulate debris from surfaces and corners is meditative in its own fashion, and yet, as he emerges, it slips back in through his doorway, eddies piling in corners even as he turns to place the boom back in its spot, and if he had water to spare for it he would scream.


End file.
